The Very Nature of Love
by Daeleniel Shadowphyre
Summary: James Tiberius Kirk has been with many people over the years. When he loves, however, the number is much smaller.


**Title:** The Very Nature of Love

**Author:** Daeleniel Shadowphyre

**Feedback:** darkone2813 (at) mindspring (dot) com

**Fandom:** Star Trek: 2009 Reboot

**Genre:** Drama, Angst, Romance

**Rating:** R/M

**Pairing:** Jim Kirk/Carol Marcus, Jim Kirk/Gaila, Spock/Nyota Uhura, Spock Prime/Kirk Prime, eventual Spock/Uhura/Kirk

**Summary:** James Tiberius Kirk has been with many people over the years. When he loves, however, the number is much smaller.

**Warnings:** Standard Shadowphyre Warnings apply.

**Disclaimer:** Star Trek and related characters and themes belong to Gene Roddenberry's Estate and way too many people to list here, none of whom are me. This is a non-profit work of fiction.

**Notes:** Written primarily for a five and one prompt on the st_xi_kink meme: Five times Kirk "loved and lost", and one time Kirk loved and they stayed. It made the muses sit up in my head, especially given another prompt requested by the same person, which shows up in part three. I've already promised to expand on it and give it a happier ending to fill that prompt, but this one struck me in a more melancholy tone.

**Dedication:** To shadowloverk- couldn't resist the prompt.

**Distribution:** Ask, and ye shall receive.

**-One-**

**H**E IS FIVE years old, and the most important person in the world to him is Mommy. He thinks she is the most wonderful person ever, and he doesn't understand how her eyes remain so sad when he loves her so much.

Then, _he_ starts coming around, and Jim is confused. Mommy smiles more, but not at him. She starts humming odd songs that aren't meant for his ears. The man comes by more and more, and then Mommy asks him one night if he would like a new Daddy.

"Why?" he asked, childlike petulance in his voice as he pouts. "You got me 'n Sam. Why do you need someone else?"

"You'll understand when you're older," Mommy says with a sigh, and ruffles his hair.

When Winona Kirk marries Frank Bartlett, Jim stands beside his brother in the ill-fitting child's tuxedo and thinks fiercely, as his heart breaks in his chest, that he will _never_ understand.

**-Two-**

**A**T AGE FIFTEEN, Jim is just barely beginning to find his feet again. His trip to _That Place_ and the _Things_ that happened there are still rough wounds on his soul, barely scabbed over and festering beneath the surface like an ugly black rot that stains him with the sins of Accomplice and Favoured and Survivor, and Jim doesn't know how to handle that other than drift. His mother can barely look at him sometimes, but at least she's there and that bastard Frank isn't. It feels vindictively like "too little, too late," but he never says it.

Carol Marcus is probably the only one who tries to get close to him now. Others who tried were rebuffed, too energetic or perky or tactile or inquiring... Carol sits with him quietly, close enough to feel each other's body heat, but not close enough to touch. The first time she takes his hand, he tenses, skittish as a rabbit, but all she does is hold his hand and, very slowly, he's able to relax enough to lace their fingers together.

They spend most of their time together now, preferring each other's company over all others. Their first kiss is an accident, a misjudged distance, a slip as Carol's footing loses its grip and she falls into Jim, their lips and teeth meeting hard and disjointed as their noses collide. There's stunned silence as they recover, Jim holding her against his chest almost as if she's fragile, both of them holding their breath and waiting for the other to start the nervous laughter that will let them let this go and move past it.

Their second kiss is slow, tentative, and tender, and Jim will swear later that he felt the earth move beneath them and it wasn't because of a loose rock.

It's three months later, standing by her bedside in the hospital, that the world crashes around him again. Carol had been in a car accident, out with her aunt. Carol had lived; her aunt and the foetus - _baby, oh god, she was pregnant_ - had not. They hadn't slept together, and Carol can't look at him, something broken and bruised in her expression that Jim recognises all too easily. Carol's clenched hands in the blankets when she tries to look at him tell him she knows he knows. When she jerks away from his hand, just a touch to her shoulder to offer support she apparently doesn't want from him, Jim turns around and leaves the hospital without looking back.

**-Three-**

**H**E KNOWS HOW it looks to the other cadets at the academy. Jim is a very much-reputed playboy, and Gaila is an Orion. No one can believe their relationship isn't one of convenience, one or both using the other as an outlet when they can't find someone else, or if they do have a relationship then it's obviously an open one.

Gaila laughs at the number of people who hit on her or on Jim or both of them at once. Jim thinks it's pretty damn funny, too, most of the time, but it does wear on them both when they can't _ever_ go out anywhere without someone interrupting them.

"Maybe I should just put a ring on you to keep them off," he huffs after one persistent asshole has _finally_ been dissuaded with more alcohol and a push towards someone else.

"You romantic thing, you," Gaila teases him, playing with his hair. Except she can tell he's only partly joking, just like he can tell that, when she slips her hand down the back of his neck and takes his hand to pull him onto the dance floor, she's not saying 'no'.

The ring is platinum - gold would look wrong against her beautiful emerald skin - and is set with a heart-cut diamond bracketed by emeralds. He has it sitting in his desk drawer, planning to give it to her after he takes (aces, he's gonna fucking pass that damned) Kobayashi Maru for the last time. For tonight, however, he's in her arms, pressing her back into the bed, their usual teasing falling from their lips even as he touches her with tenderness and she arches beneath him trustingly.

The mood is ruined by the return of her roommate, and Jim finds himself unceremoniously thrown out of the room by a half-dressed Uhura who glares at him in disgust like she can't believe he's classed as a sentient life form.

He doesn't get the chance to see Gaila again, not privately. She's there when the hearing is called and he's brought up on charges of cheating and academic probation is handed down, and he catches a glimpse of her rushing to her assigned ship in the rush to get aid to Vulcan, and then everything is insane and he's fighting for his life, for the lives of everyone on board the _Enterprise_, and he just doesn't have time to think.

It's only later, days after the final showdown with Nero and the sudden weight of 'Acting Captain' resting on his shoulders that only lifts when they manage to limp back to Earth and disembark from the shuttle, when the press has been evaded and he can _breathe_ again, that it hits him. Gaila had been running to board the _Farragut_.

She hadn't been on board the _Enterprise_.

Bones finds him in their room later, clutching the box with the ring still inside as he takes slow, measured sips straight from the bottle of whiskey he stole from under the doctor's bed. Bones sits down next to him, and Jim leans sideways against his friend, his breathing slightly uneven but without any words. He knows Bones will understand.

And if his eyes are dry, it's because he's already cried all his tears.

**-Four-**

**A**S CAPTAIN OF the _Enterprise_, Jim's had to get used to several things he can and cannot do. Regulations about fraternization are acknowledged and dismissed as inconsequential, though he privately pulls aside a few of the couples to caution them against letting their relationships interfere with doing their jobs. The only couple he doesn't caution this way is the one consisting of his First Officer and Chief Communications Officer, partly because he's certain of their professionalism, but partly because Uhura still kind of scares him.

For himself, he continues to flirt - it's part of his nature - but never takes up with anyone, firstly because he doesn't want to fuck up his relationships with the crew by sleeping with them, and secondly because he's still mourning. There's also the issue of dealing with a few stray memories left behind from a certain time-travelling half-Vulcan, and he'd figured out pretty quick that the two of them meeting wasn't going to end the world, but he's still a little wary around his First Officer and so hasn't broached the subject.

The shock when he's presented with an official request to marry from Commander Spock and Lieutenant Uhura is almost tangible, and it's only the fact that the request is delivered in person by the two of them that gives him the composure to avoid falling out of his chair. Uhura looks worried, though she's obviously trying to hide it, and Spock... Jim doesn't have to work nearly as hard to read the other man's expressions and that alone tips him off besides the faint flush and pinched look around his eyes. Jim recognizes the signs with an insight that shouldn't be his, and that makes him pause.

"You've discussed this thoroughly?" he asks, looking between them. Uhura is pale, which makes her usually dark complexion look ashen, but she nods tightly and Spock inclines his head. Jim signs off on the request and ignores the surprise and suspicion when he offers the next day as the date and approves a week's on-ship medical leave for the both of them.

He spends the entire night working out the ceremony, knowing he'll have to do this again eventually. As a result, he works out a basic ceremony pattern that he can tailor in the future, and a more specific ceremony to fit tomorrow evening. He does his best to ignore the reason he knows so much about Vulcan marriage ceremonies and voluntarily submitted to a stimulant hypo before going on shift the next morning, but at 1800 hours after their shift, he doesn't feel much more alert than a sleepwalker.

"Marriage has always been a union of hearts and minds uniquely suited to each other," he says solemnly as he stands before the kneeling couple in Spock's quarters. The Vulcan standard heat is making him sweat heavily, but he leaves the temperature controls alone for Spock's comfort. "As you go forth from here into your new lives, trust in yourselves and trust in each other." Without consciously deciding to, his hand rises in the unfamiliar/all-too-familiar gesture and draws a sharp glance from Spock. "Live long and prosper together," he says, and then adds with a forced smile, "You may kiss the bride, and I'll see you in a week."

He escapes from their quarters and sets the lock codes to only be opened from outside with a medical or captain's override, leaving the internal controls alone. Filing the paperwork, along with the appendices of regulations citing Vulcan marriage practices to keep his First Officer and Communications Officer from being transferred for this takes up two hours. From there, he makes his way to sickbay and drags Bones down to Engineering to "talk" with Scotty. Both men are surprisingly understanding about it, and if Jim spends the night drinking away the pain of losing a relationship that never had the chance to form, neither mentions it the next morning.

When Spock and Uhura finally emerge from Spock's rooms and receive a clean bill of health from McCoy, Jim is able to smile at them honestly again.

**-Five-**

**C**APTAIN JAMES TIBERIUS Kirk does not believe in no-win scenarios. It's a precedent that began as a cadet challenging an unfair simulation and persists solidly into his command structure. His confidence and determination is inspiring to the crew, pushing them to look beyond their own perceived limits and pull off what some would think of as miraculous successes.

It's also common knowledge that Jim loves his ship, going so far as to say "her" in reference and to discuss her with Chief Engineer Scott as "our lady". It's become well known through observation that Jim doesn't like the command chair because it symbolizes his position as Captain, but because it's his personal connection to the ship herself.

That's why it hurts so much, not just for Jim but _everyone_, when he has to give the order to evacuate the ship. He's the last to leave, holding the ship together as much as he can while the rest of the ship gets clear until he's pulled bodily from the bridge by Spock and Uhura and into an escape shuttle with Bones, Sulu, Scotty, and Chekov. He's lost the energy to fight them by the time they and the rest of the escape pods clear the ship, and he makes himself watch as the ship - his true home - rips itself apart. He hears Scotty sob. He wants to, but he doesn't have the breath.

A too-hot hand rests on his shoulder, and he can't even muster up a front of surprise he should feel at this voluntary contact from his First Officer. All he can do is put up his shields, perhaps a little late, to keep Spock from feeling anything else of the maelstrom of emotion that is his constant companion.

"You did everything you could, Captain," Spock murmurs. His tone is more gentle than it's ever been before, but Jim can't think about it. He feels to raw, too open, and he doesn't want to risk hearing something that isn't there.

"It's a cold comfort, Commander," he says quietly, tiredly. Spock says nothing further, but his hand squeezes Jim's shoulder, and Jim thinks maybe there's some significance in that. But then Uhura approaches, and Jim steps away to let Spock comfort his wife.

Silence reigns in respect for their fallen lady until the rebuilt _Farragut_ signals their response to the emergency hails and takes the _Enterprise_ crew aboard for transport back to Earth.

**-Six-**

**M**OST PEOPLE WOULD assume, incorrectly, that Jim Kirk would want to spend most of his time on Earth getting drunk while the _Enterprise_ is being rebuilt. Spock and Nyota look in three bars before finding Dr McCoy and being apprised of their error, and the walk from the bar to the Captain's quarters at Starfleet is silent and contemplative.

Jim answers the door with an expression of polite interest that changes to surprise and a touch of wariness when he sees them. It makes something clench in Spock's abdomen to see that wariness, but he is forced to admit the logic of it; he and Nyota have never sought the Captain out without invitation before. He is beginning to regret that lapse.

Nevertheless, Jim allows them entrance and offers them tea, which they accept. Spock watches Jim prepare the tea while Nyota looks around, her gaze drawn to a selection of photographs. One is of an Orion girl that Spock does not recognize, but Nyota silently informs him is her one-time roommate Gaila. Jim sees the direction of their glances and smiles without humour.

"I'd asked her to marry me," he says, responding to the unasked question. "I was going to give her the ring after the Kobayashi Maru."

"Captain-" Nyota begins, looking stricken, but he holds up a hand.

"It's not your fault, Uhura. You're hardly the only one to assume we weren't actually serious," he says, and even though he's smiling, his eyes are very sad. "And call me Jim, we're off-duty and on leave."

"Jim," Spock finds himself saying, hesitating when the other man stills before forcing himself to continue. "When you performed the ceremony to wed Nyota and myself, you recognized my condition."

It's not precisely a statement, but it's less a question than it should be. It is also not the question that he means to ask but can't seem to voice, and he can tell that Jim knows that in a way that defies the logical progression of their friendship, unless...

"Mind-melds are a delicate thing, as I'm sure you're aware," Jim says mildly. Spock can feel Nyota stiffen, but neither responds, and after a moment, Jim nods briefly. "It stopped being distracting after five months, and if it gives me a little more insight into how to avoid being strangled by my First Officer, I don't really mind."

"The Ambassador-" Spock begins, but Jim shakes his head.

"It was the logical course of action at the time, despite the... side effects," he says. "I never would have believed him if I hadn't seen it for myself, and he apologized for the emotional transference."

"Did the Ambassador not offer to remove the implanted memories?" Spock persists, unsure why this was so important.

"We agreed to meet after the upcoming annual memorial," Jim says, turning back to the tea. Nyota wonders silently if Jim is trying to avoid looking at them. "By then, he hopes the grief will have faded enough that he can avoid further damage."

"There was damage?" The voice is Nyota's, though the question is his. Jim stills slightly before turning, the tray with their tea in his hands. Spock notices absently that the tea is most definitely not replicated, which is both gratifying and slightly disquieting. He had not realized his captain prefers tea.

"Not so that my medical scans would claim," Jim is saying as he sets the tray down on the table and takes his seat. "Bones says my seratonin levels evened out a lot since it happened. Of course, he likes to snarl uncomplimentary things about it, but I think that's because he's worried that it's temporary."

"Is it?"

"I don't know."

They sit in silence for a while, sipping their tea and just thinking. The silence is oddly comfortable, none of them feeling the need to speak. A brief touch to Nyota's mind tells him that she is currently reviewing everything she's ever known or thought she's known about James Kirk, and is realizing how little she really knows about him.

"When was the last time you had sex?"

The question startles everyone, even Nyota. Spock raises an eyebrow at her while they wait for Jim to stop coughing. His barriers are down enough around them - and Spock feels a flicker of shame that it took the destruction of the _Enterprise_ to even realize Jim _has_ barriers - that their captain and friend answers the question.

"Shore leave on Rigel II. Bones actually wrote me a prescription," he adds with a pout that would have made Nyota laugh if she hadn't recognized the occurrence as three weeks after their bonding and six days after the stop at the Vulcan colony to have their bonding ratified by the surviving Elders.

"And before that?" Nyota presses. Her eyes are wider than normal, something deeply vulnerable in their depths, a question that isn't outright stated but hangs in her mind. _Please tell me I didn't ruin the last night you had with her..._

"...Eight days before the distress call from Vulcan," he says eventually, subdued. Even without touching him, Spock can tell that the low tones is out of respect for him and his decimated people with an empathy that is not wholly unexpected.

"May I inquire as to when the two of you were...?" Spock begins, but trails off as he realizes that he is unsure how to describe the relationship he was previously unaware of.

"Two and a half years," Jim answers, looking down at his cup. Spock controls a wince as Nyota's grief increases, and Jim looks up sharply as if he can feel it himself. "You didn't know, Uhura, and the ones who did didn't believe it until after. It's not your fault."

"I didn't exactly make it easier," Nyota says quietly, and the remorse is audible.

"You didn't go out of your way to make it harder," Jim says gently, and Spock is suddenly reminded of the rumours of an altercation that happened the week following their return.

"Ensign Giotto?" he asks quietly. Jim stiffens, then chuckles darkly.

"You have to admit, our working relationship became a lot more professional after he was assigned head of Security for the _Enterprise_," he says. Nyota makes a sound in her throat that might have been a laugh if not for the pain, and Jim sighs. "Personal feelings aside, he is good at his job and a credit to his training. Our lady needs..." he stops, taking a breath and letting it out. "The flagship of Starfleet needs the best, and I won't accept any less so long as I'm her captain."

"The _Enterprise_ is being rebuilt, and you are indeed to be her captain," Spock reminds him.

"Won't be the same. You never forget your first."

Nyota glances at Spock, seeking permission, and he sends a pulse of affection and approval across their bond. Carefully, she reaches out and places her hand on Jim's ignoring the way he goes rigidly still at her touch. "It might not be the same," she says softly, meeting his eyes. "But it could be better."

He doesn't ask if she's offering, which is a credit to his maturity. When she continues to hold his gaze, he doesn't ask if she's serious. His glance flicks to Spock, who nods slightly, and that's the extent of questioning his comfort and participation. The silence stretches, until Jim lets out a breath and lets go of his teacup, turning his hand up beneath Nyota's. Spock takes that as his cue and extends his hand, first two fingers lifted, last two curled down.

It takes a moment, during which many emotions pass across Jim's face. When the man who has become his friend lets out a long sigh and stretches out a hand, fingers curled in the same position to brush against his, Spock knows they have their answer.

**-End-**


End file.
